The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.

You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....

In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.

Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Monday, November 03, 2008

confusion on the cross

I smell blood in the air
see soldiers marching through great white plumes of tear gas
reluctant young men who do not want to be out there
who wonder what they will do if they are ordered to fire

in ww 2 they found 75 percent of the men
shot over the heads of enemies.
A young Hitler claimed
he could have been killed by an american soldier, long before he became the ghastly beast,
but the kid chose to let him go.

After that the army changed the training enough that now,
soldiers shoot to kill

I see them trying to steal another election
hear the outcry and this time something more
the thunderous roar of the masses rising as one
storming the castles with our torches
burning the monsters out

See the celebration downtown
the Obama podium where he will
announce himself winner
or that some are calling him the loser.

They try to pull an Al Gore
Obama will have to use his community building skills
to stop the riots
in their chests
from storming out in into the streets

to stop the fire in their eyes
from becoming flaming beams exploding all oppressors

I see man since the beginning of man
man now
and man to be
blurring together the beginning and the end
of life on this speck of dirt afloat in the infinite

I come to man at the Praxis
the point of change
a black man could take the helm of a country
where when I was a teen
the best comedy rag in the country
openly mocked blacks

the Harvard brewed National Lampoon

I am on all sides at once
telling them that they can make it no matter what
no matter who
no matter when

tell everyone that the changes that have come about in the last two years
are irrefutable
no matter who wins
though I am not so sure of any of this anymore

When McCain openly became Bush
to get the neo con money he needed to keep his campaign marching
I saw that the snakes were still in the Hen House

talking to my friend Ben today
I said that I hoped the Republicans don't try to steal votes this year
"They are going to do what they do, man."
He is cynical.
I am still hopeful
because I have had to find hope
where others would find none over and over
in the squalid pockets of my existence
in jail with my pain ripping my back apart
on mornings after stupidly acted drunken dramas
The humiliation of the day to day existence
that drives the seemingly sane to shoot up their co-workers
No, I find the hope...
when I die I will look to the sky
my hope fulfilled by the One who hangs on high

for the next two days
as we wait to find out which way the world is heading
the world will be a nervous wreck

we will be further apart then ever if they try to steal this one
I will render them unforgiven

no one will believe the elephants won without trickery
NO ONE will sit back this time and let them use the courts to steal
the people's will

I pledge my hands to peace in this land
tell myself the times from Martin Luther King to now
have shown sweeping changes

STILL... I understand mine is not the perch of power
in this revolution
there is no head to lop of the snake
no leaders to send the unmanned planes in to blow into a hellish inferno

there could be insane rage
that makes them want to smash everything in this world
tear this world apart and start over

the young men who are shocked by the support of whites for another black
will sit back again in their hatred
see the world once more as not quite their land at all...

I will understand if the skies grow black with fires
never lend my torch to destruction
I will never give up the on other avenues
unless attacked

the states have a chance to prove themselves worthy of God's Grace
womyn's grace, the oppressed's grace
by saying

Just Say No To The Party Of Lies and Wire Taps And Torture

Say yes
to a man
who is a glorious challenge to my cynicism

sorry John McCain,
your judgement in this campaign proves to me
you are someone else's puppet
How I know about this

My image has been used to make weird points in cults
to oppress my beloved
I know about being used as someone's puppet
know where to look for the strings
McCain has strings
he accepted like chains
to get the money from the top five percent
that he needed to fund his failing campaign

The irony of the decendent of slaves
walking into the white house
as the first lady
while the the Republican candidate watches
pathetically enchained,
unable to move as the world sweeps on around him

You are welcome to spread my poems by ANY MEANS NECESSARY.


There is some overlap... but they are all different.

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